


Skype

by RedLaces



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2018-02-07 07:11:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1889700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedLaces/pseuds/RedLaces
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia and Isaac have been in contact since he left. A quick text here and there turns to hour long skype conversations until Lydia doesn’t call for two weeks and Isaac panics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Skype

Lydia returned to her room almost on her knees. It was seven am. Another late night risking her life, followed by a pack meeting at the veterinarian, brainstorming ideas for what the fuck this messed-up town had brewed for them this week. She’d dropped Kira home what felt like seconds ago and she thanked her banshee blackouts and the quiet streets of Beacon Hills for allowing her to drive home in an almost zombie-like state. She let herself in and crept up the stairs to avoid a confrontation with her mother. Consciously, she knew returning home at three am was not an act that would go without questioning, and she didn’t have the brainpower to form a believable lie. She’d probably have trouble during the day, but in the wee hours of the morning she was vulnerable to accidentally spilling her guts just out of laziness and fatigue. But at the back of her mind she also knew that her mom waking up would be cause a further investigation into her whereabouts at all times, and some worry about her grades.

Her grades. She’d told Scott and Stiles they were “fine”, but fine wasn’t good enough for Lydia. She didn’t do fine. She did excellent. She did “exceeds expectations again and again”. She had a GPA above 5.0 and an IQ over 170, but they weren’t natural. That kind of genius required constant maintenance, maintenance that, lately, she’d been struggling to provide. If her mom found out she’d have to face the problem. She knew that in the scale of everything that happened to them in Beacon Hills, her grades were just a little pixel in a LED screen of problems. But they mattered to her.

There was nothing she could do right now though. Lydia had laser-like focus but even she would pass out at the mention of experimental physics or neurobiology. Spilling into the room like warm mercury she gravitated towards her bed and collapsed, not even bothering to take off her shoes. Her last thought was two layered over each other. She often thought like this, her brain was a well-oiled machine.

One: She was going to somehow weasle a favour out of someone for looking after Derek. Probably Stiles, althought Scott had a lot more to give.

Two: She should probably skype Isaac when she woke up, there was a lot to catch him up on.

-

_Lydia: Isn’t it a little late for you?_

_Isaac: An American werewolf in France doesn’t reserve the right to a sleep cycle. Anyway, you’re one to talk, it’s 1pm in Cali, why aren’t you at school?_

_Lydia: 2. It’s 2pm. But that’s not important. I have a lot to catch you up on._

-

Before he left Isaac had visited Lydia. He’d met the confused eyes of her mother before having a brief conversation with the Banshee on her front porch.

“Why me? Why not Scott, or Derek?” Lydia had been in her oldest pyjamas, her hair pulled back on a scruffy ponytail and thick, colourful Christmas socks on her feet. Her eyes were bloodshot, and dark bags hung under them. She’d didn’t look like she’d eaten in a while either. All together she looked as good as could be expected, but somehow it still shocked Isaac. It was like the shiny coat of paint had been scraped back painfully from her skin and what he was seeing was the real Lydia, completely uncaring of how she looked. The entire aesthetic was thrown off by her stature and expression. She stood as tall as she could at 5’3’’, shoulders back, weight spread even on both legs hip width apart, arms crossed over her chest. Her expression was neutral, bordering on cold. This was the furthest Isaac had seen her from the girl he’d asked out when he was fourteen, and it threw him off so badly he almost lost his words. Almost.

“I need someone who doesn’t want me here.”

“Who says I don’t-”

“Don’t try to comfort me, I don’t care. I need someone who isn’t going to badger me to come back, or make me want to without trying.” His mouth sat in a firm line, his knees locked back, every muscle in his body rigid. He hadn’t untensed since he’d said his goodbyes. It was a defense mechanism of sorts, one he couldn’t turn off.

“What exactly do you want out of this?” She asked, but he could tell by the way she looked off behind him that she didn’t care. She wouldn’t care about anything for a while.

“I’m ditching all contact to here, but I need a lifeline. If something huge happens, and I mean huge, I need you to tell me.” At that sentence she made eye contact, something had caught her attention.

“You’re not even going to talk to Scott?”

He shook his head. “There’s nothing keeping me here. If I’m gone, I’m gone completely.”

She shook hers in response. “If there was nothing keeping you here you wouldn’t need to ditch your phone.”

“I didn’t come here for a therapy session, alright?” He bite. She recoiled, not afraid, but a little offended. He exhaled. “Look, will you do it or not?”

She paused, biting her lip. “Fine.” She tossed her head back, grimacing. “I’ll be your 911.”

“Thank you.” He forced out a mumble, shoving his hands into his pockets.

They stood there for a moment, knowing this would be their last face-to-face contact indefinitely. There was a lot of crap between the;, broken hearts, murder attempts. There was nothing to cover all of it. A hug was too personal, a handshake too light and formal, so, without thinking about it too much, Isaac bent his head down and kissed Lydia on the cheek, before looking her in the eyes.

She had a brilliant pokerface, but Isaac looked hard enough to see surprise.

“See ya ‘round, Lahey.” She quipped.

He chuckled. “You too, Martin.”

-

_Isaac: Fuckin’ hell, 170 million?_

_Lydia: That’s what he said._

_Isaac: Why keep it in a safe under the school?_

_Lydia: Well, he obviously knew he was gonna run into some heavy shit, including death and resurrection. How are you supposed to explain that to a bank?_

_Isaac: true_

_Lydia: Crap, my mom just called me down._

_Isaac: How does she not know about all the supernatural stuff, yet?_

_Lydia: I told you, I’m good._

_Isaac: A thousand times, see ya ‘round Martin._

_ Lydia: You too, Lahey. _


End file.
